


Coming Face-To-Face

by ChristinaL80



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Dawson's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Crossover, F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 10:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17486423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristinaL80/pseuds/ChristinaL80
Summary: Nothing’s as it seems in this Buffy the Vampire Slayer/ Dawson’s Creek Crossover. After almost five years of grieving over Spike's death, Buffy finally learns that he is, in fact, back amongst the living. She feels betrayed and struggles with overcoming the past. With some guidance from new friends, can Buffy and Spike find happiness before a manipulative big bad destroys everything?Beta Credit: Gillie.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

 

He hadn’t set foot in this city since the night of one of his infamous dances, all those decades ago. At least that was what he’d called his battles with Slayers — _dances_   — but he could no longer put a fancy term on what he’d done.

What he’d done was bloody kill.

 On that particular night, after he’d stripped the leather duster from Nikki Wood’s body and made it his second skin, Spike had left her remains on the transit line roaring through the 149th Street Tunnel. He’d lived off the kill for days, triumphant euphoria bumping through his bloodstream.

Bloody hell, he’d loved that high.

Now he had to live with the bottomless fall.

Funny, how the spark of a soul turned that temporary euphoric glee into permanent self-loathing. Yeah, alright, he’d admit that he didn’t deal with the guilt in the best of ways — avoidance and flippant sarcasm was still his preferred response when confronted with his horrific body count. Hey, it was better than hearing voices and giving into nutty insanity in a sodding school basement.

Sacrificing his life to save the world hadn’t been the magic cure to absolve him of his sins, either. Spike wished that it was that easy. He may not have got his soul back from a bloody curse like Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding himself, but he knew the same hell as Angel.

And that included seeing the Slayer move on from afar.

Why couldn’t she see that he’d only been trying to do what was best for both of them? Why didn’t the chit understand that he was damaged goods, and that she’d been better thinking that he was still ashes at the bottom of the hellmouth?

The Slayer deserved better than a self-loathing vamp traipsing back into her life.

She’d had enough of that with Angel.

Spike walked down West 41st Street as a cold drizzle pelted in his face, staring straight ahead as he weaved through the evening crowd of frenzied New Yorkers. He hardly noticed, though, as thoughts of earlier that day fogged his mind…

_“Say something, Slayer,” Spike had said after several seconds had ticked by with no reply. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned their reunion after almost five years.  He’d thought that maybe she would give him a knockout punch, but not this bleeding silence on the other end of a fucking cellphone. He should have gone to Dawn’s NYU campus apartment instead of calling, but once Dawn let him know that Andrew had let the cat out of the bag, Spike had to contact Buffy._

_“I don’t know,” Buffy finally replied, her voice sounding hollow “What do you say to a supposed dead undead vamp that doesn’t have the decency to let you know that he’s alive?”_

_“You’re brassed off.”_

_“Uh-huh, that’s a whopper of an understatement,” she stated vehemently. “Spike, do you know how it felt when Andrew finally admitted that he’d seen you buddy-buddy with my other vamp ex playing Robin to his Batman?”_

_“I’m not buddy-buddy with Peaches,” Spike countered. “And I’m definitely not Robin to his Batman.”_

_“Not the point.”_

_“Right,” Spike closed his eyes, and then turned serious, “I_ — _I was gonna come straight your way when I first came back, but then realized that it wasn’t the best time. You were getting on well.”_

_“Getting on well?” Buffy echoed. “Yeah, I was having a super- duper time after all the bloodshed and thinking you were gone for good, Spike,” she sighed before continuing, “You of all people know I don’t need another person deciding what’s best for me. You know that. I **thought** you knew that.”_

_Their night in that abandoned house flashed across his mind. The night where they’d both let down their brittle barriers and connected beyond the physical. The night when Spike had discovered what it was like to be truly close to someone else, not only to touch the warmth of another soul._

_Buffy’s soul._

_She said that she believed in him._

_But he didn’t believe in himself._

_“Buffy, that’s not what I meant. Bloody hell.” He sighed and then tried to explain “I wasn’t ready. I’m not in my best mind. It’s like I’m still being haunted even without the sodding First tinkering in my head…I’m trying_ — _”_

_The Slayer cut him off, “Is this an ‘it’s not you; it’s me’ speech? Cause it’s a pretty pathetic excuse, Spike.” Her voice gentled, “After all that you said, Spike, after all that I said, after all that happened, I never thought you’d keep me in the dark.” There was a pause before she said, “I-I gotta go help Dawn with something.”_

_“Wait, that’s it, is it? At least give me a chance to defend myself. Meet me, Slayer! C’mon now,” Spike had begged._

_“What’s the rush?” Buffy had asked dryly. “You waited this long.”_

_“Buffy?”_

_She’d sighed and said softly, “Tonight…Meet me tonight at the coffee shop ….”_

_……………………………………………………………….._

Coffee shop? Spike stepped under the yellow awning of _The True Love Bar &Grill._ He looked down at the slip of paper in his hand. Yeah, it was the address Buffy had given him. How sodding ironic. True Love? Was this her way of aiming a stake at his bloody heart? To get back at him for not coming to her sooner, or to make it clear that she had moved on?

He’d known that her words in those final moments in the hellmouth hadn’t been true, couldn’t have been true, not after all their toxic history. All right, Spike admitted that he’d been foolish to think for a second that it had been real. It had sure seemed real as their intertwined hands had flamed together and her voice had cracked with emotion:

_I love you._

That sweet yet torturous admission had haunted him for the last 1,742 days. Yeah, like a stupid nit he’d counted since the day Angel had resurrected him.

 Spike shook off the melancholy as he stepped into the restaurant, hearing a bell chime above the door. Bollocks, this wasn’t a coffee shop. The dim dining room looked like an intimate cabin of a ship. A couple of porthole windows were set on the two outside walls. Manufactured golden light projection danced around the room like shimmering ocean waves at sunset. Spike scanned the faces of the diners, talking and laughing as if they didn’t have a bleeding care in the world.

 The petite Slayer, though, wasn’t among them.

Was she even coming?

Spike sighed and walked toward the bar to the right. The dark-haired bartender who handed a glass of wine to another customer turned toward Spike with an oddly, familiar smile.

 “Hey, man, what can I get ya this evening?” the bartender asked.

“I thought,” Spike replied without preamble, “this was a coffee shop.”

“Yeah, it was,” the man nodded. “But I’m afraid it went under about a year ago.”

Bloody terrific, the vampire thought and then he asked dryly, “Who’s the nit who decided to turn it into a poor man’s idea of a pirate ship?”

The bloke chuckled, “That would be me, actually. And it’s supposed to be a poor man’s idea of a sailboat.”

Spike raised his scarred brow, “The True Love?”

“It’s all nostalgia for my fiancée and me.”

“How sweet”, Spike said trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He knew that this meeting with Buffy had little to do with love, at least on her end, but here it was, knocking him over the head at every turn like a nasty beastie trying to get the upper hand. His eyes wandered toward the entrance.

 In an empathetic tone, the owner said, “Hey, I’m Pacey, by the way. Can I get you a drink?”

Spike looked back at the bloke. He knew what he should do. He should run over to Dawn’s and get the agony of seeing Buffy over with, once and for all. Instead, though, Spike chose to prolong the agony a bit longer. “Yeah, a beer.” he nodded taking a seat on a stool.

………………………………………………………..

“Buffy, enough!” Dawn yelled.

The Slayer looked up from her very intense task of sweeping her little sister’s kitchen. “What?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

Dawn rolled her eyes, “You’ve already swept my three- foot kitchen five times.”

“Well,” Buffy said, “You college kids are mighty messy.”

“I’m a senior who’s capable of cleaning up my own messes,” Dawn crossed her arms. “You, on the other hand, are a Nutter Butter.”

“Am not.” Buffy shot back with a childish pout. “I’m just being a good sister and attentive guardian.”

“Not anymore. I’m over eighteen.”

“Not in my heart.”

 “Lame.” Dawn shook her head. “Stop with the excuses, Buffy. Spike’s alive. He’s alive!. And instead of running to see him, you’re going loony toons on a cleaning binge.”

“Yeah, I know,” Buffy scoffed. “You don’t need to keep repeating it. Spike’s been alive for six long years and he was in no rush to tell me. I’d still be clueless if Andrew hadn’t had one too many Pina Coladas and let that little tiny fact slip, at my birthday party no less.” Buffy had always wondered why Andrew decided to move to L.A. and help out Angel. They hadn’t known each other, besides the Faith connection. Now, it all made sense. Spike had asked the pip-squeak to keep his trap shut. The wannabe sidekick had probably been all too eager to become Spike’s obedient puppy until he couldn’t resist an enticing bone in the form of a surprise party. If Buffy sounded a bit bitter and angry, well, that was because she had lots of bitterness and anger running through her veins.

She hadn’t exactly had an easy relationship with Spike, Buffy knew. But after those last few days and nights before that last battle in the hellmouth, she’d thought that they’d been starting to heal those sharp and deep wounds of their past. She’d thought that she could trust and be truthful with Spike. She’d thought that they’d found a real connection.

A connection that she’d mourned after his death.

After their victory over The First, the days and months had blurred together like a mirage of a solid life... Everybody in the fight had had to find their own “normal” again. Nobody was the same. How could they be after seeing loved ones bravely die and Sunnydale crumble into nothing but a gigantic crater in the Earth? While Xander had gone off alone to grieve for Anya, hiking across country with only a camping pack on his back, Willow had broken up with Kennedy and decided to focus on herself and her new found wicca power. She’d also gone to Connecticut for a bit to help her parents settle into a new place and a new life. This had left Buffy and Dawn to figure out where to call home.

They’d ended up following Giles to London. Dawn had eventually gone back to school while Buffy and Giles figured out how to recruit and train the new slayers around the globe. It wasn’t a simple task by any stretch, but Giles had been able to gather a less stuffy yet capable council. These men and women had been placed in charge of the recruitment process. In only one year, they’d opened a training academy for slayers in the heart of London. None of the young chosen ones had been forced to follow their “destined” path, but the majority had chosen to pursue it.

With the aid of the Slayers who had fought The First and eventually the aid of Willow and Xander, Buffy had created a successful yet intense training program for the students, including both physical and psychology classes.

For a while, the heavy workload had kept Buffy from her own psychological and emotional demons. The numbness had been like an old friend, an old friend who’d been there when she’d been resurrected from the grave It had helped her block out the unwelcome despair that had already been hanging over Buffy since the loss of her mother. When the numbness faded this time, Spike wasn’t there to light the match for her to feel again.

Spike was dead and Buffy didn’t _want_ to feel again.

There had been no escaping her subconscious, though. Spike would come to her at night. Sometimes she’d only hear his voice whispering _No you don’t, but thanks for saying it._ Sometimes he’d run to her, crumbling into dust before reaching her outstretched arms. Buffy would awaken with an overwhelming ache all over her body and the burden of many regrets, causing many sleepless nights.

Many sleepless nights, for nothing.

 Spike had been alive all along, living it up in LA with Angel of all people. They’d probably gone clubbing every night, drinking and joking about that Slayer…

“Buffy, are you listening to me?” Dawn asked, waving her hand in front of her sister. ‘Earth to Buffy.”

“Huh? Sorry.” She blinked, coming out of her reverie.

“You have to go to him.” Dawn replied, grabbing the broom from Buffy.

“Will you stop it?” Buffy crossed her arms. “You know, I’m still mad at you for calling Spike and telling him to come to New York.”

“Somebody had to let him know that you know.”

“He didn’t have to know that I know.” Buffy closed her eyes and shook her head, walking into the living room. “And this conversation’s over before it turns into that ‘We know that they know’ episode of _Friends,_ I’ve had enough of pop culture references while researching The Entertainer,” she explained, referring to the demon that she’d followed here in the first place.

 Luckily Dawn just so happened to attend NYU, giving Buffy an excuse to visit the Big Apple.  Buffy had to track down the demon before his portal opened that could potentially blend this world with a fictional dimension, which supposedly housed television show characters. However, there were still too many questions as to what could happen if The Entertainer succeeded. Hopefully, Buffy would stop him before she had to find out— if only she could find the portal located somewhere in the city.

“Don’t change the subject.” Dawn shadowed Buffy into the living room. “Admit it. You want to see Spike.”

“Okay, fine.” Buffy spun around. “I want to see Spike! Are you happy?”

Her smug sister smiled, “Where are you meeting him?”

“I thought a public place would be best.” Buffy sighed. “The Brew, you know, that little coffee shop.”

“A coffee shop?” Dawn smirked. “You’re right. It’s not like _Friends_ at all.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, “Are you done?”

Dawn ignored her, “You should know, though, that The Brew isn’t there anymore. Now it’s a bar & grill _.”_

“Oh well,” she shrugged.  “No big…I mean, it has the same address, right?”

Her sister nodded. “ _The True Love Bar & Grill.”_

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Tell me, you’re kidding.”

Dawn laughed. “Maybe it’s fate.”

“No, no,” Buffy shook her head. “This isn’t funny, Dawn. This reunion was supposed to be a no biggie. Just a quick, ‘Howdy do? Okay, see ya, goodbye,’ meeting, you know. Nowhere near the L word whatsoever.”

“C’mon, Buffy,” Dawn countered. “You really want that kind of reunion? It’s Spike, Buffy. He’s the vamp who fought to get his soul back for you, and then sacrificed his life for you, for us. Will you be satisfied with a drive-by greeting?” she asked.

“No need to lay it on too thick,” Buffy sighed, letting some of the hardness around her heart crack. “You don’t need to sell me on the great attributes of Spike. I just don’t know what I want from tonight, from him, from me,” she finally confessed as her stomach did a jittery little flip-flop. “I really don’t know.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Spike glanced at the door of _The True Love_ for like the tenth time in the last twenty minutes. Everybody came and went, it seemed, but the little bird. He should just call a spade a spade. Buffy wasn’t coming.

“Why don’t you just go to her?”

His head snapped back toward Pacey. “What did you say?”

“You’re waiting for a woman, right?” Pacey asked as he handed a tub of dirty glasses to a busboy.

Spike straightened his shoulders, “How, uh, how did you —“

“Speaking from experience.”

Spike scoffed and shook his head. “I’m not one of those besotted fools who spill their troubles to a complete stranger as he gets sloshed. No offense, mate,” he said gulping down the last of his second beer.

“None taken.” Pacey held up his hands and started to turn around.

But Spike couldn’t stop himself from spilling. “It’s just that she has every right to ditch me, to be upset, you know,” 

Pacey stepped back up to the counter again, and nodded.

Spike continued. “I get that, really do. I never should’ve stayed away once I got back from—” he caught himself before saying _being dead,_  “—uh, being out of the country.”

“Why did you stay away?”

“Things were confusing, still are,” Spike replied. “I mean, we went from trying to kill each other to shagging to what? I don’t know.” He shrugged. In those last few months, you could almost call what Spike had had with Buffy a friendship. They’d fought side-by-side; he’d helped her train the potentials; and she’d begun to trust Spike enough to have him go chip-free. Spike hadn’t dared ask for more, especially after what he’d done to her while soulless. Unfortunately, one night of holding Buffy and watching her sleep had changed everything.

_“Were you there with me?” Spike had asked Buffy, taking in her beauty as the glow of candlelight flickered across her face._

_“I was.”_

Spike rubbed his eyes, forcing away the memory. He’d wanted to believe Buffy that night. God, he still wanted to believe her just like he still wanted to believe her loving admission in the Hellmouth. He just couldn’t. How could she have anything but pity for the vamp who brought aggravation and agony into her life?

The excuse of self-hatred was just that, an excuse, Spike admitted to himself. He wasn’t the second coming of Peaches. Spike didn’t live to brood like tall, dark, and forehead. Yeah, he was disgusted with his Big Bad past. That wasn’t, however, the main reason he’d stayed away. He just didn’t want the Slayer’s pity. And that made him an idiot, Spike knew. “She deserves better than a wanker like me in her life,” he told Pacey.

Yeah, man, yeah.” The fella bobbed his head, “I understand that feeling all too well. I let a particular woman get away, once or twice.”

“What happened?”

“I’m marrying her now,” the other man grinned. “I realized that in order for us both to be happy, I had to let her off the hook completely, once and for all, even if meant going our separate ways. Thank God, Jo wouldn’t have my selfless overture.”

Jo? His eyes narrowed at that name. Pacey? True Love? Off the hook? Why did all seem very familiar? Spike wondered, but he quickly shook it off.  He returned to the conversation at hand. “Lucky for you, mate, but most of us fellas aren’t that bloody lucky,” he replied.

“True,” Pacey nodded. “All I’m saying is, don’t leave words unspoken or you may just have more regrets.”

“Got that off a Hallmark card, did you now?”

Pacey chuckled. “Something like that. I grew up with friends with a high tolerance for dissecting your every emotion, including my bride to be.”

“Hey, Pacey,” a woman called from the kitchen entryway. “We’re running low on your marinade for the roast beef.”

“I better go take care of that,” he told Spike. “Do you need anything else?”

Spike declined as he stood from the stool. As he took out some cash, he heard the chime from the bell over the front door.

He froze.

He sensed Buffy even before he turned his head. His un-beating heart squeezed agonizingly in his chest as his gaze caught hers. The glimmering dining room lights cascaded down her face, highlighting her golden locks, making her look even more radiant than he’d remembered. Her mouth, however, remained in an unreadable line as they stepped toward each other.

“Hey,” Buffy said softly.

“Hey, Slayer,” Spike returned, tilting his head to the side, his eyes never leaving hers. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

“I wasn’t sure, either,” she replied, keeping her voice even. “That’s why I wanted us to meet in public.”

His brow lifted, “Is it really, Slayer?”

“Well,” Buffy retorted, “that, and I thought a public place would stop me from kicking your ass and killing you. It’s a toss up”

“The venue never stopped you before.”

Buffy broke his gaze, “Things change.”

 Spike whispered, “I’m sorry, Buffy.”

Her head snapped back at him. “Why didn’t you tell me then, Spike? God, I thought that I meant more to you than that!”

Spike glanced behind Buffy and saw Pacey with his arm around a dark-haired woman. The man’s earlier words echoed back at him.  _I realized that in order for us both to be happy, I had to let her off the hook completely, once and for all._ Spike may not get the happy ending, but he was letting Buffy off the hook “You do mean more to be than that,” he replied, stepping closer to the Slayer. “When I said that I love who you are, I meant that, Buffy. I do love who you are, but my part in your life isn’t included in all of what I love about you. From the moment I walked into your life, I made it a bloody living hell.”

“So, not telling me you were back from the dead, was, um, um, what? A selfless act?”

 “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

“That’s such a load of crap, Spike,” Buffy countered harshly. “Do you think I don’t know how you truly feel? It was written all over your face in the Hellmouth just like now.” She brought her hand to his cheek, saying softly “You’re afraid, you’re afraid of believing me, believing in my feelings for you.”

Spike leaned into her touch even as he replied hoarsely. “I don’t want your pity.”

Tears glistened in her emerald eyes as her mouth quirked up. “God, you’re a moron. Don’t you get it? I missed you.”

Spike sighed. “I missed you, too, love.”

 And then it happened for the first time. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder, dissolving the tension between them.

“I meant it when I said I loved you,” she whispered.

Spike closed his eyes, holding her tightly, letting her words sink in for the first time.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“What’s so fascinating over there?” Joey followed her fiancé’s gaze across the dining room. A petite blond woman wrapped her arms around a bleach-haired guy. They seemed to slip into another universe, closing their eyes, clinging to each other as if nothing else mattered.

Pacey smiled, his eyes remaining on the couple. “He listened to my advice.”

Joey arched a brow. “Advice? _You_ gave that guy advice? And what advice would that be, pray tell?”

Pacey turned toward her again. “How to be happy with the woman you love.”

“And what makes you such an expert, Pace?”

“Well,” he said, gently taking her by the hips, drawing her closer to him. “I got you.”

“Really?” Joey smiled slightly, getting pulled in by his raspy voice and the familiar warmth of his body.  Her arms enveloped his midsection. “You know, Pacey, it’s not a done deal until we say those pesky ‘I dos’. Anything can happen,” Joey said.  After over a decade, she had finally moved beyond youthful fears, missteps, and close calls with Pacey. Their relationship was solid and she wasn’t ready to bolt. And they could joke about ancient history.

He grinned, brushing his lips against hers lightly. “You’re right. Thank God, the wedding’s this weekend before that wretched apocalypse, huh?”

Joey rolled her eyes and then she laughed, glancing back at the other couple. The man caressed the woman’s hair, but the woman’s eyes darted away from him.

What was their story?

……………………………………………………………………

“So, it’s past tense, then?”

Buffy had wanted to remain indifferent. Cool and collected was the only way to meet your ex-lover who had kept his resurrection a secret after all, right? That plan had turned into a big fail, however, as soon as her eyes met Spike’s. Her legs had become wobbly and her reserve had dissolved completely as his arms came around her like a cozy blanket.

Now as Spike caressed her hair, Buffy had to find her bearings and she stepped back. “Past tense, what?”

“You said you _loved_ me.”

Her eyes darted away from Spike. Cool and collected Buffy was back when she met his eyes again. “Seriously? You’re worried about my tense use?”

“Well,” he replied, “yeah.”

Buffy shook her head. God, he was still very much a guy. “No, ‘I made a mistake, Buffy.’ No, ‘I was wrong, Buffy.’”

“I thought what I’d done was right, “Spike stated. “I made a mistake, but did you mean it, Slayer.”

How did she end up here? Buffy thought. How did _love_ — _loved_ come out of her mouth? Emotion gave you nothing but trouble. Emotion was one enemy that couldn’t ever be defeated. “I—I got caught up in the moment.”

“You didn’t mean it, then?”

“No.”

“You meant it?”

“Yes.”

“All right,” Spike said seemingly satisfied before shaking his head. “Wait, what are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “I don’t know, Spike. I’m happy you’re here, but I still want to stake you in the heart, just a little. I did miss you, though,” she smiled slightly.

“I get it,” he sighed. “I don’t have a bloody right demanding anything from you.”

“Well, that may be a tiny bit extreme,” Buffy countered staring deeply into his regretful blue gaze. Damn it, she was too easy. Her heart would be gooey putty in his hands if she wasn’t careful. “You did sacrifice your life to save the world after all, and I know how your mind can be all scrambly when you return.”

  “What can I do to make it right?” Spike asked earnestly.

Buffy sighed, her heart turning into goo in no time. “Spike, I—” Her _Hate That I Love You_ ring tone jingled. Her eyes widened. Perfect, just perfect. She made a mental note to strangle Dawn for changing her ring tone.

His brow arched up.

“Coincidence,” Buffy quickly said as she took out her cell from her coat pocket. “It—It’s Willow. I’ve been expecting her call,” she lied, turning and stepping off to the side. “Hey Will,” she answered.

“Hey”

“What’s up?”

“I may have stumbled across something major,” Willow replied, “about our new Entertainer buddy and the portal.”

“He wants me dead major, or apocalyptic major?” Her mind concentrated on the call even while sensing Spike’s searing gaze on her back. She needed this distraction, even the-pop-culturally-obsessed-demon variety. Finding and stopping The Entertainer seemed easy compared to her convoluted feelings for Spike.

“I’m not sure,” Willow said. “But it’s ‘I just landed at JFK and should be at Dawnie’s in a jiffy’ major.”

“You’re in New York now?

“In a cab as we speak.”

Buffy put a hand to her forehead and sighed. “Will, what did you find exactly?”

“Well, on a hunch, I did the tirer la couverture spell,” Willow replied cautiously. “And something super-strange happened, Buffy. It was very freaky.”

 Buffy hadn’t thought about the spell in forever. She remembered her hazy trance and Dawn flickering in and out of existence. awn being the key and the diva hell-god Glory had been all stored in the box marked _Past_. Now, Dawn was just her baby sister, plain and simple.

“How freaky, Will? Did you locate the portal, or The Entertainer?”

“No, but it was out of your body freaky, Buffy.”

“How so?”

“Watch that guy with the pooch crossing and not me!”

“What? Willow!”

“Buffy, sorry, can’t get into the nitty-gritty now. My cabbie’s giving me the side-eye and we almost hit some poor puppy. See you in a few.”

Buffy sighed before looking back at Spike. “Willow just flew in from London.”

He smiled slightly. “Problem with a beastie?”

She nodded. “When isn’t there?”

“Need some help?”

Would she like Spike’s help? Buffy wondered. Good question. He would be a good asset in tracking down and defeating The Entertainer. Spike had been a couch potato and his TV and movie knowledge could be handy.

But on the other more complicated hand, it would put the two of them in close proximity. Could she handle it? Yeah, she thought, when they’d been in the fight to beat Glory and the First, they’d learned how to remain professional and work as a team. It was when feelings and relationship woes had become involved that things got very messy.

But they could separate the professional from the personal and past from the present.

“What do say, Slayer?” Spike asked when she remained silent.

“Okay, Spike, I could use you.” Buffy gave a small smile. “Like old times.”

He grinned back, lifting a brow.

Oh God. “You know what I mean, Spike.” She rolled her eyes. “ _We_ could use your help.”

“Yeah.” He sobered, “I know. Relax, love.”

“I am relaxed,” Buffy argued. “I’m just peachy keen. And you were just being you, I know.” She sighed, closing her eyes for a sec. “That came off crummy. What I mean is, Spike, seeing you again is far from easy, especially because you still seem like you. Too familiar with the banter and the grin.”

“And that’s a bad thing, love?” Spike asked, his gaze searching hers. “Because I love that you still seem like you. The bloody high and mightiness and all,” he added lightly

Her mouth curved up a little, but she still held back. “Can we just catch this demon and not worry about anything else for now?”

Spike nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

“We’d better go.”

As they were heading toward the restaurant’s exit, a guy smiled and waved to Spike. “Come back anytime.”

Spike waved back.

“Bartender?”

“Owner, nice bloke.”

Buffy glanced back at the man, and the woman next to him. “They look kind of familiar,” she said offhandedly, following Spike out the door.

………………………………………………………………………

When the two of them opened the door to Dawn’s campus apartment, they were ambushed by Willow and Dawn’s cheery faces.

“Spike, you’re alive!” Willow beamed at him.

“It seems so, in an undead sort of way.”

“He’s been undead walking for a long, long time.”

Spike glanced at Buffy. Her easygoing tone didn’t disguise her wounded eyes. Buffy welcomed this demon to prolong dealing with his return, Spike knew. He wasn’t a complete prat. Maybe that was what she needed right now, to be reminded of old times, to be reminded of what a good team they’d made fighting the big bad.

“I’m just glad that we’re able to tell you how super grateful we are for your sacrifice!” Willow put in. “It’s not every day that one gets resurrected.”

“Just once or twice in a lifetime.” Buffy replied wryly.

Spike shrugged. “I just wore a sodding sparkling necklace that Buffy gave me. You ladies did all the work.  Will, you did the hard part with your witch magic and all.” He smiled and he meant it. Back in the day, he’d been quite all right being on the outskirts of the Scoobies. Even when Spike had fought side-by-side with the gang during Buffy’s brief death, he’d never felt included. Then again, if you hadn’t been a Summers lady, he couldn’t have bloody cared less.

Now all that had changed.

“Aww, that was nothing.” Willow blushed.

“It’s just awesome that you’re here, Spike.” Dawn hugged him. “ _We’ve_ missed you,” she whispered before stepping back.

“You don’t still hate me, Nibblet?” Spike arched a brow. He’d always preferred to be on the youngest Summers’ good side. Not that he hadn’t deserved her stinging wrath for the inexcusable offence that he’d committed against Buffy.

Dawn shook her head. “I’m just always looking out for my sister and what’s best for her.”

Buffy scowled at Dawn. “Alrighty, I think Spike’s done with the warm fuzzies.” She looked at him.

Spike nodded. “Yeah, right. We can have more warm fuzzies later. I want to know more about This Entertainer bloke.”

Buffy had only told Spike a bit about the big bad on the cab ride over here. The git intended to bring fictional characters into this reality through a portal. Even a soulful Spike thought it seemed like a bloody good party. He’d love to meet the little fella Timmy from _Passions._ The doll was such a riot.

But it could cause bleeding catastrophic damage like actors who portrayed characters going poof from existence, beginning an apocalyptic imbalance in the universe.

“Willow, what did you find out?” Buffy turned to the redhead.

“Well, I don’t think it’s what we first thought. This baddie doesn’t just want to bring people from another dimension. I think he wanted something else from us.”

A chill rippled through Spike.

"Will, what did you see in the spell?” Buffy asked, her voice tensing with each word.

“Me, I’m the one who flashed in and out of existence."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Why did there have to be an unexpected twist? Buffy hated twists. Just as soon as you became close to figuring out the warped mind of a demon, you always uncovered new parts to their demented brain.

“How could we be part of this crazy Evil’s plan?” Dawn looked from Willow to Buffy. “I thought it had to do with TV characters, not three-dimensional people.”

“Who knows?” Buffy sighed.  “Ever since this so-called Entertainer revealed himself to us, he’s been all show and no tell. we don’t know all we need to know”

“When did this bloody beast first appear?” Spike asked. “And why now?”

“It was after a doozy of a double-date Buffy and I went on a few weeks back,” Willow explained.

“Why didn’t I hear about this double-date?” Dawn raised a brow. “I just broke up with my cheating boyfriend and needed to hear about someone else’s pathetic love life.”

“Well, uh, a warlock from my coven had been after Buffy for a long time and she finally gave in to the poor guy, dragging me along, sticking me with his drunk sister who went pukey all over me. It’s not something you’d like to relive.”

“Like now,” Buffy added pointedly to Willow.

“You like witches now, Slayer?” Spike raised both of his brows.

“He’s a warlock.” Buffy countered, taking some satisfaction in his sarcasm. No, she hadn’t waited around and turned into a lesbian in Spike’s absence. “And he was nice.”

“He _was_ nice?” Spike echoed. “What happened?”

“Nothing worth discussing now.” Buffy sighed, dodging more of his questions by getting back to the matter at hand. “Anyway, moving on, The Entertainer popped up through the TV like a poltergeist looking for a little attention and trouble.”

They had been vegging watching chick flicks when his Academy Award golden skin and fashionable tux had appeared on the screen, interrupting Sally’s Field’s emotional cemetery scene in _Steel Magnolias_.

_“Hello ladies, “His turquoise eyes had twinkled, his lips slithering up like a snake seeking a tasty prey. “What sad faces. Your love lives are pathetic. Don’t you know by now that drowning your sorrows in tearjerkers is cold comfort? I could help, though. I could bring the women of the quaint little Louisiana beauty shop out to you. You could relish in their southern charm and advice. I just need your permission. A simple ‘okay’ will do.”_

Buffy’s initial reaction had been one of amused confusion. When she and Willow had refused his request, he’d vanished as quickly as he’d appeared, leaving them a new demon to research. What was he? This guy hadn’t wanted to grant any type of wish per se, so they had checked “vengeance demon” off the short list.

At first, the news of this demon hadn’t been taken too seriously. There had been no hurry to get answers, but the annoying little pissant had eventually become a nightly uninvited visitor, rudely interrupting Buffy’s teeny amount of TV watching after long hours of teaching at the Academy. It was always the same spiel.

_“How would you like to meet Jack and Rose and save Jack from unnecessarily death from hyperthermia…Don’t you miss Ross and Rachel and the gang…How would you like to be a part of the medical drama of Seattle Grace?”_

As Buffy continued to refuse to take the bait. the demon had gotten increasingly agitated and angered like a petulant child being refused a Stickers in the checkout line. Finally, in an outburst, he’d let his intentions slip.

_“Fine, be that way,” he sneered. “I will not need your assistance. The day will come forth soon when the portal will open and two worlds will be colliding into bright lights by The Great White Way, and you will not be part of this glorious triumph.” He’d then faded from the screen one last time._

With help from Giles and their own set of researchers at the Academy—mainly Willow and Xander and a few members of the council—they’d discovered newer documentation found in the rubble from the blast that wiped out the old council. It turned out The Entertainer was part of a small group who were distant cousins of vengeance demons known as indulgence demons. They didn’t have to grant other people’s wishes to cause mayhem and bloodshed; they only needed other people’s help to grant their own.

“Unfortunately, or fortunately, I should say, a few years back The Entertainer was cursed by a scorned lover and sent into TV land for all of eternity.” Buffy told Spike. “Supposedly she’d gotten fed up with his lack of interest in her and his overwhelming interest in _Leave it to Beaver_ and _Perry Mason_.”

Spike’s forehead furrowed. “No _Twilight Zone?_ What a sad bloke.”

Buffy ignored him. “It seems that one way for the curse to be broken is for another scorned lover to grant his request for him to be set free. The problem is that the make-belief dimension will come with him.”

“And another way is for him to wait for the portal to open on its own between the two dimensions.” Willow added. “It won’t be pretty.”

“And the portal is somewhere on ‘The Great White Way’” Spike guessed, referring to Broadway in Manhattan.

Buffy nodded, “That’s the theory. What better place to bring characters to life than in the most famous theater district that brings characters to life every day, so to speak? We just haven’t found it yet and the location isn’t documented.” She sighed. “It now looks like we have another piece to this puzzle to solve.” She turned to her friend. “Will, what exactly happened when you did the spell?”

“Well, you know, locater spells gave us nada.” Willow sat down on the sofa.  “I started thinking that if the portal’s hidden, it might just shimmy and shine under the tirer la couverture spell, but all that shimmied was me.”

“Maybe this baddie’s playing mind games?” Dawn speculated, taking a seat across from Willow. “Or maybe he did something to our memories?”

Spike nodded. “Like the monks did—.”  He trailed off looking at Dawn as if he’d done the unforgiveable.

“It’s okay. When they made me who I am,” she finished the thought without hesitation.

Buffy shook her head. “I think it’s more than that. We should do the spell, here, with all of us. Will, can you gather all the supplies?”

The redhead stood and went over to her bags by the door. After taking out incense candles, assortment of powder pouches, and other knick-knacks, she turned back to the group. “All set.”

A few minutes later, the four of them sat Indian-style in a circle in the middle of Dawn’s tiny living room floor. The glow of the lit incense cast shadows on everyone’s face as Willow sprinkled the powders around.

“Fun reunion, innit?” Spike said dryly to Buffy who was seated next to him.

“Oh, it’s a blast.” Buffy bit her tongue before saying more. It would be so easy to swing back into their cozy repartee. It already was, but she was still angry at him. Remember the anger, Buffy told herself.

“Ready,” Willow said when all the pouches were empty and a rainbow powder ring decorated the floor. “Remember to relax and take a deep breath.”

“Well, I’ll just relax.” Spike murmured.

“This is usually a loner spell, but since we are quadruplets here,” Willow half-smiled at her own wittiness, “we should hold hands, so that the energy force will pass through us as one.” She grabbed Dawn’s hand on one side and Buffy’s on the other. Dawn grabbed one of Spike’s hands.

Buffy held out her other hand to Spike. He glanced into her eyes and gently took it into his cool palm.

They all shut their eyes.

After a moment, a feather-like mist blew across Buffy’s face, propelling her eyes open. Her gaze took on the familiar sharp tint with an added severe queasiness that flowed over her like the molecules of her body were being squeezed together and pulled apart all at once. She looked from the wide-eyed faces of Willow, Dawn, and Spike. Their existence shifted in and out of the dim room into a black void.

They sure weren’t in Kansas anymore

…………………………………………………..

After midnight, light shimmered through the window from skyscrapers and the flickering from the telly set the living room in a soft, blue glow. The girls had gone into the bedroom to try to call London and do some online research, leaving Spike with his own scrambled thoughts

At least he had his favorite teen drama _The Creek_ to keep him company.

It was the repeat episode from season three where Colby confronted Petey and Sam about their relationship. Spike had always felt a kinship with poor, sarcastic sidekick Petey. Always thinking you weren’t good enough for your girl didn’t exactly boost your bleeding confidence.

But the episode felt odd and unfamiliar.

And the characters seemed not quite right.

 It must have been the alternate state of consciousness that they’d just experienced, one of the strangest out-of-body experiences that had happened to him in the last century, well, short of being burned to ash and then resurrected. His stomach hadn’t sodding rolled over in that manner since his first taste of human blood after being sired.

After they’d all snapped out of the magic induced high, Buffy had been the first to conclude that they were in a different dimension. How? Why? When? That was still a bloody blank. The Entertainer must have found a way to gain the upper hand by playing with their memories and sending them to some sort of parallel universe. They were the ones who didn’t belong here.

Wherever here was.

What did the stupid nit do to then?

“Will’s still trying to get hold of Giles or Xander.”

Spike jerked his head to his side.

Buffy plopped down next to him on the sofa. “But no such luck. Those guys probably lucked out not being a part of our little adventure to this new land,” she finished dryly.

“Bloody hell.” Spike muttered. “We ought to find that evil bastard and kill his telly obsessed ass.”

“Not tonight.” Buffy sighed resting her head against the back-sofa cushion. “We first need to find out what that ass did to us. I thought he wanted to be freed, not zap us into another dimension.” Her forehead winkled.

“Slayer, what is it? What else is it?

Her troubled eyes met his. “I can’t help but think this is my fault.”

 “What? How do you figure?”

“I’ve been mulling over what could have happened and I think I know.” She looked away and then back at him. “You.”

Was she accusing him of something? Spike wondered. It was difficult to tell. Her eyes were soft yet sad. Instead of asking, though, he waited for her to continue.

“My last clear memory was the night of my birthday party when Andrew told me you were alive. After that, everything becomes fuzzy until I stepped into this city.” Buffy revealed. “Dawn and Willow don’t remember much of that night, either.”

“My memory’s sort of foggy, more like a blank until Dawn called to tell me my secret was out.”

“I think I know what happened.” Buffy turned toward the television. “I’m like Colby there. Never really been a fan of the wannabe filmmaker with the big vocabulary and idealist perspective, especially when it came to his relationships with Sam and Petey, you know, but I get Colby now.”

“Slayer, uh, what does that—.”

 She pointed to the screen. “Here, Colby felt like a scorned lover being betrayed by his best friend and his ex-soulmate getting involved. A bit over the top reaction to say the least —not life and death—but I get him”

It clicked. “And you think you’re the scorned lover who broke the big baddie’s curse ‘cause of me.” Spike surmised. His gut twisted into a killer knot. This insanity wasn’t her fault. It was his bloody doing. If he had come to her sooner, they would not be in this situation. “Great, something else for you to hate me for.”

“No, I have plenty to hate you for.” Buffy smiled. “But not for this.” She reached for his hand.

Spike looked down at their joined hands and back up to her lips. All he had to do was lean over and—

_“Oh Pacey, you blind idiot. Can’t you see she doesn’t love you?”_

His own voice from long ago reverberated through his mind.

Spike squeezed his eyes shut.

_“I’m marrying her now…I realized that in order for us both to be happy, I had to let her off the hook completely, once and for all, even if meant going our separate ways. Thank God, Jo wouldn’t have my selfless overture.”_

Spike jumped back.

Buffy’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Bollocks, I remember, I remember something.” His head snapped toward the telly. “This show is a bloody fake. It’s, it’s a show within the true show _Dawson’s Creek_ and I spoke to one of the characters tonight. I spoke to the real flesh and blood Petey tonight.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Spike held the door to _The True Love Bar &Grill_ open for Buffy, ushering her in with a sweep of his arm.

“Thank you.” Buffy gave a small smile. He was going all out tonight acting the part. This was their first date. Though, it would more accurately be called a fake date, or putting on a show, or playing make-believe, or, whatever. This was definitely not a _real_ date.

Then, why was her stomach doing cartwheels like it was the Cartwheel World Championship?

Get a grip, Buffy chastised herself. This was only a mission to figure out what type of madness they’d been sucked into now. If Spike was right, they’d fallen into a rabbit hole to a parallel universe that had at least two television characters walking around carefree and fancy-free.

Petey and Sam aka Pacey and Joey.

Pacey and Joey. Why did those names sound dead-on? Buffy wondered. She hoped to get some answers from the TV couple —No, scratch that, Pacey and Joey were flesh and blood people in this alterative reality, Buffy reminded herself. What was the real couple’s connection to the Entertainer? And why did Buffy meet Spike at Pacey’s restaurant? What was the significance of the time and place?

What was the purpose of this clusterfuck?

And then there was Spike.

Why was he even here when he hadn’t been at her birthday party? She was almost certain all this had started at that party after she found out that Spike was alive.

That seemed to be the only link.

This was all she’d thought about last night—Spike—not on catching The Entertainer or finding the portal to go home like a rational person. Spike made her antsy with a war of conflicting emotions. It had been a bad, bad idea deciding to get some sleep before creating a plan of action. All Buffy had done was toss and turn. Spike had been just on the other side of the wall lying on the sofa while she listened and watched Dawn and Willow snore in the bedroom.

“Good evening.” The hostess smiled at them. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Afraid not.” Spike replied. “Is the owner, Pacey, in?”

“I’m sorry, Pacey has taken the night off, but he may stop in. Do you know him?”

“You could say that.” Spike muttered, then said, “Uh, we met last night, here.”

“Wow, this place must have had quite impression for you to be back so soon.

“It did.” Buffy laughed, lightly slapping Spike’s arm. “I think he wants to impress me tonight. This is our first, real date, and by real date, I mean, no Reese’s Cups as a main course.”

“Hey.” Spike’s eyes snapped to her. “I’m not that bloody—. “

“Relax.” Buffy grabbed his hand and patted the back of it.  “It’s okay, Sweetie. I agreed to a second chance, didn’t I?”

Spike scowled.

Buffy turned to the other woman and smiled. “Do you have a table free?”

The hostess looked back and forth between them, seemingly trying to keep a straight face. “We do have a few free tables. Right this way.”

After they were seated and handed menus, the waiter came and took their drink orders. Buffy absorbed the out-at-sea ambience of the restaurant. Last night she’d been focused on Spike that she hadn’t paid much attention to the place. The dancing lights and the soft background sounds of ocean waves ebbing and flowing put her body at ease despite all the uncertainty swirling around her head. Maybe this was what she needed. Maybe this was what _they_ needed.

Spike chuckled.

Her eyes met his. “What?”

“Cute, what you did back there, love.” Spike gestured behind him with his thumb.  “We’re auditioning for _The Odd Couple_ remake, are we now?”

She smiled. “I was just having a bit of fun. Being on a date is a foreign concept, at least for you and me.’

His face became impassive. “Maybe for you.”

Stupid Buffy, she scolded herself. So much for being at ease. She had been hoping to put their baggage to the side for tonight, but instead she’d flashed a big beam of light right on it, center stage. Buffy sighed. “I just meant that our relationship has never been conventional.”

His blue gaze warmed a bit. “I know that, pet. I’m just not a cheap bloke. I can afford to get you more than sodding peanut butter cups.”

Buffy laughed. “Good to know” She tilted her head and tried to explain her complex feelings once again. “Look, I’m sorry for my bipolar reaction to you. I just, I just don’t know how to be here, with you, and especially now. Are you here because you want to be? Or are you here as some master joke by a big bad?”

“I always wanted to be with you,” he replied resolutely

She looked at him hesitantly, but laughter sparked in her eyes.

 “Despite my actions, that is.”

“Yeah, despite those.” Buffy smiled and then whispered. “I know.”

His lips slightly lifted.

After what seemed like a long silence, Buffy clear her throat, “Uh, but you know what I mean, though, Spike. We don’t know anything Will you go poof as soon as we step through the portal? Our memories of this place may be wiped out as soon as we’re home.” 

“Well, yeah, I know. Let’s hope that Pacey—.”

“Hey, man, you’re back!”

Buffy turned her head to see the guy in question. Pacey walked toward their table all smiles. The same woman from the night before, who Buffy knew now was Joey, was at his side. Buffy still didn’t recognize them, although there was a familiarity, like struggling to remember a name on the tip of your tongue.

“Hey, mate.” Spike shook Pacey’s hand. After introductions were made all around, Spike said to him, “I just thought we’d come back here to try more than your beer.”

“Well, I’m glad you guys are back here together again.” Pacey looked at them like a proud papa who was seeing his baby for the first time.

How much did this guy know about them? Buffy mused. How much had Spike spilled to him? All Spike had told her was that Pacey advised him to be open and honest with her. What exactly was said?

She decided to change the subject before the guy started handing out cigars or toasted to their future. “We, um, we actually just saw your TV interview on the Internet.”

While spending the day coming up with a game plan, Spike and Buffy had come up with a cover as to why they would be so fascinated in Pacey and Joey. Luckily, Willow had stumbled across the _E! True Hollywood Story_ interview clip online. It was a reel verses real comparison. Pacey and Joey were asked how alike and how different they were to their alter egos of _The Creek._

Spike took her cue. “Yeah, how did that happen?”

 “It’s nothing.” Pacey tried to laugh it off. “It was only fifteen minutes of fame.”

Joey smiled slightly at her fiancé “And you loved every minute of it.”

“Maybe just a little.” Pacey grinned.

Joey laughingly rolled her eyes.

“I wager it’s good for business,” Spike said.

Pacey chuckled. “Well, having your adolescence recreated for national TV does have some perks, ya know.”

“When it isn’t a little embarrassing, “Joey quickly added, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

“Is it that bad?” Buffy asked noticing the other woman’s vulnerability. What would it be like seeing a dramatization of your most awkward years play on the small screen? Buffy wondered. Her most awkward years had included vamp boyfriend troubles and repeatedly saving the world. She shuddered to think of it watched by millions for entertainment.

“It’s just a bit strange, sometimes, you know.” Joey explained. “But that’s to be expected when your friend’s the creator of a TV drama.”

“But Dawson does take many creative liberties.” Pacey replied.

 “Like what sort of liberties?” Spike asked.  “Petey shagging his teacher or Petey buying Sam a wall?”

Pacey’s eyes widened, and he laughed. “Ahem…uh, yeah, both actually happened to an extent, except I just _rented_ the wall for Joey.” He kidded.  “I suppose you can say I had a unique high school experience.” He turned directly to Spike and said, “You seem to know a lot about a teen soap.”

 Spike shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s a good show.”

“Oh, Spike, don’t be modest.” Buffy smirked at him. “Under all that leather and bleach, he’s _The Creek’s_ biggest fan,” she told the other couple.

“I wouldn’t go that—.”

“Really?” Pacey cut Spike off and looked at him thoughtfully.

“What?”

“I was just thinking, I’m having a poker game tomorrow night and you’d liven up the game. How about it?”

Spike raised his brow. “Poker?”

Pacey bobbed his head. “Yeah, yeah, uh, it’s a tame version of a bachelor party, but Dawson’s my best man. He always likes to meet fans of his show. What do ya say, man?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Wait.” Buffy jumped in. “Bachelor party? The wedding’s soon, then?”

“This Saturday, actually,” Joey replied.

 “Congrats!” Buffy smiled at her before looking at Spike. His knowing gaze met hers. Bingo. They still didn’t know the specifics of The Entertainer’s agenda, but _something_ apocalyptic was going to happen at that wedding. Buffy just had a gut feeling. She was ninety-five percent certain of it.

But the question was, what would they have to do about it?

There wasn’t much time to figure it out

“T-minus three days and counting.” Pacey echoed Buffy’s thoughts as he teased his fiancée.  “And you’ll officially be my old ball and chain.”

Joey gave him an _Oh please_ look before addressing Buffy. “You’re welcome to come to my bachelorette party while the guys do their thing. I don’t know what type of debauchery my sister has planned, but it should be interesting, to say the least.”

“I don’t know.” Buffy shook her head, acting hesitant. “I mean, if you really don’t mind a stranger crashing…”

“Not at all.”

“Okay, sounds fun.”

If only fun would make everything alright and take them back home.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

“Well, it’s so good to be home” Joey said to Pacey as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

He nodded while brushing his teeth.

 It had been a long night. After they stopped in at the restaurant, they’d picked up Bessie from Grand Central.  Joey didn’t want her sister— and her matron of honor—to rely on a cab alone. Unfortunately, Bessie had mistakenly given Joey the wrong arrival time. Joey and Pacey had to wait over an hour in the crowded and stuffy station. Then, there had been a traffic jam on the way home. Not a fun start to the wedding craziness that was sure to continue right up to the exchange of vows.

Her mind switched to a less stressful subject. “Spike and Buffy seem like interesting people.”

“You’ve already said as much,” Pacey mumbled with a toothpaste filled mouth.

 He was right. Joey did mention Spike and Buffy as they’d waited for Bessie. Something about the couple was just familiar. “They just seemed different tonight than yesterday.”

On his side of the vanity, Pacey rinsed and then asked, “How so?”

Joey clicked off the bathroom light and they went into their bedroom. “It’s just the way that she was teasing him tonight about being ‘the biggest fan’—I don’t know—. It was just completely opposite from the intense vibe I got from them last night, you know.” Joey remembered how Spike caressed Buffy and how she’d turned away as if she was cautious and wanted to keep her distance.

 “Well, you and I weren’t exactly bosom buddies for a long time. You moved to a whole different state, but our bantering and teasing resumed as if no time had passed when we saw each other again.” Pacey smiled at Joey, walking toward her.

Tossing a pillow off the bed, she gave a lopsided smile. “Good point.” It was still unbelievable how she’d gone five years without really seeing or speaking to Pacey. Joey knew that they’d both needed to figure things out. She may have needed the time a little more than he did, but now looking at him, she wondered why she stayed away so long.

“So, put your overanalyzing mind at rest, Jo.” Pacey pulled her in his arms. “Let’s just hope some of our happiness rubs off on them.”

“Is that why you invited Spike to your bachelor party?” She looked at him pointedly.

Pacey nodded and shrugged. “It just seemed like a fun idea.”

“You just want to be a shining example of fun and happiness, huh?” Joey asked, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, bringing her body closer to his, her eyes looking straight into his.

 “Why do you think I’m marrying ya, Potter?” Pacey smiled as his gaze dipped to her lips. The humor of the moment fading into something more palpable.

“Nice,” she whispered back before his mouth captured hers in a slow, sensual kiss that quickly intensified.

All conversation was forgotten as they fell onto the bed.

………………………………………………………………….

The apartment was pitch black and silent when they returned well after midnight. Buffy walked toward the bedroom to check on Willow and Dawn. Empty. “Nobody’s here,” she told Spike as she came back into the living room.

Spike flipped on a side table lamp and picked up a Post-it. _“We need to clear our heads. Went to a midnight show_.” he read then held it out. “Maybe they’ll meet our big bad at the movies” he said dryly.

Buffy rolled her eyes and took it. “They should’ve called my cell.” She really couldn’t blame Willow and Dawn for wanting a breather after being cooped up here for more than twenty-four hours, but nobody knew what The Entertainer truly intended. All of them needed to be vigilant and to keep each other informed. Buffy brought her cell out of her jacket pocket and checked it. “Duh, right, I shut off the damn thing during our so-called patrol.” 

After they left _True Love_ , Buffy had decided that she and Spike should assess what sort of low-lives of the demon variety this alternate Manhattan produced. It could be concluded after a few hours of patrolling the streets that the city had plenty of wacky loons, but all were of the human variety.

“If you kept it on,” Spike replied, “think we could’ve spooked away that drunk git.” He shuddered, referring to the guy who’d stumbled out of a costume shop and right into them. “His bloody plastic fangs nearly did you in, Slayer.”

“Hey,” Buffy said in a feigned defensive tone. “He made me break a nail when I lightly shoved him away.” Even though the patrol was pathetic by slaying standards, it hadn’t been a total lost cause. It’d given Buffy a chance to chat with Spike, to confide in him without any renewed expectations. They’d talked about The Entertainer and speculated about how Pacey and Joey and their wedding fit into his agenda, but mostly their chat veered toward the missing years when Buffy had thought that Spike was dead.

Without judgement or gripes, she’d listened to Spike relay how he teamed up with Angel to fight the good fight against evil. Despite some expected insults toward “the big forehead,” Buffy could tell how passionate Spike was about his alliance with Angel, making her wonder if Spike planned to go back to work with her other ex. That was, if and when, they got back to their own realities.

“Your light touch has always caused trouble, love,” Spike said softly, staring deeply into her eyes, not trying to shy away from the double meaning.

It would be so easy to forget about the past and the future, Buffy thought as she lost herself in his blue depths. It would be so easy to give in, to take the here and now for what it was worth. They’d done it before and it was thrilling and overwhelming—and it had ended in pain. Buffy blinked. “You, uh, you know what?” She forced a smile. “I’m tired and we have a big day tomorrow with those parties and all.”

Confusion and disappointment flashed in Spike’s eyes. “Yeah, uh, right.”

“Goodnight, Spike.”

“Night, Buffy.”

She turned and walked away from him.

           

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

 

The next morning, Dawn practically jumped on Buffy as soon as her sister entered the kitchen. “Tell me, what happened last night?”

Buffy rubbed her sleepy eyes and yawned. She’d suffered another restless night and really didn’t feel like playing twenty questions right now. “Good morning to you, too,” she replied hoarsely. “Can I have some coffee first?”

Dawn handed her a steaming mug of java.

“If I snap my fingers, will you conjure me up a plate of pancakes and bacon, too?” Buffy stalled, letting the delicious caffeine perk her up.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “C’mon, tell me about last night? Give me all the details.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Buffy looked into the living room at the empty couch with the still fresh body impression dented into the cushions.

“Willow went on a research errand and Spike’s in the shower,” Dawn replied, crossing her arms. “Now talk.”

Buffy listened to the water running, an image of a wet and naked Spike springing to mind. She shook it away as quickly as it came. Get your mind out of the gutter, she told herself and sighed. “Well, okay, we found out there may be an apocalyptic wedding on Saturday, which should be a blast. And oh, I got invited to the bachelorette party tonight.”

“So, you think the big bad brought us here to see the world end at some wedding?” Dawn asked dubiously.

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds kinda goofy, but since when do evil beings have to think with a full deck?” Buffy took a sip of coffee before saying, “We need more info. That’s why I’m gonna go tonight and Spike will be at Pacey’s bachelor shindig. You should come with me. Joey’s okay with it.”

“Okay, it will be kinda cool to meet TV characters that’ve come to life.” Dawn shrugged and then her lips curled up into a sly smile. “But speaking of Spike, I was really asking about him and you.”

“No, really?” Buffy smirked. “I completely missed your obviousness.”

Her sister ignored her sarcastic deflection “Buffy, just spill.”

How could she spill? Running to the safety of the bedroom out of fear of what could happen wasn’t exactly one of her stellar moments, Buffy thought. It wasn’t something that she wanted to share with her nosey little sister, so she just said, “It was a fake date, remember?”

“Uh-huh. Lame” Dawn replied, obviously not accepting that answer. “I was hoping that despite Spike sleeping on the couch, you guys had made a tiny bit of progress.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint.”

“So, are you saying that late movie was a waste?” Dawn complained. “You know, Buffy, Willow and I wanted to give you and Spike some alone time.”

Of course, they did, Buffy thought, lifting her eyes skyward before saying, “Oh, must’ve been hell. You had to suffer through a movie of all things? How can I make it up to you?”

The shower turned off.

 Dawn sighed, “I just want you to be happy, Buffy.”

Some of Buffy’s irritation deflated. She really did appreciate Dawn’s warm-hearted—if not excessive meddling. But Buffy didn’t need any more reminders of her troubles. She was already quite familiar with them, thank you very much. Exhibit A. had been running away last night like a scared puppy from Spike’s innuendo. “Things are just complicated, you know, Dawn, between Spike and me,” she replied. “It can’t be patched up overnight, especially while we’re stranded in this unknown universe.”

“But you’re trying?”

“I thin—”

“Trying what?” came the laidback British drawl of the very object of conversation.

Buffy spun around. Spike slipped a black-T over his head and down his chiseled chest. His damp hair spiked up at all ends, giving him a boyish allure. God, he looked awfully good, Buffy mused. Her throat went dry. “What?” she asked blankly.

“If you’re thinking about trying those strawberry Poptarts, think again. They bloody taste as old as me.” Spike cringed.

“No” Buffy shook her head, pushing any lusty thoughts far away. This was no time to fall in the gutter of horniness. There was a possible apocalypse to stop and years of abandonment issues to get past before she could welcome any fall with open arms. “We were just chit-chatting.” She looked over at her sister for help.

Dawn nodded. “We’re just shooting the breeze. You know, the sisterly bonding thing. Yep, that’s what we’re doing.”

Buffy shot her a look.

“Is that right?” Spike replied, his mouth breaking into an amused smile.

“You know what?” Dawn said a little too brightly. “I’m gonna go buy fresh Poptarts. You know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“Dawnie,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “Just go.”

“I’m going.” Dawn walked swiftly out the door.

Spike watched the door close and then said, “Obvious little Nibblet, isn’t she?”

“You could say that,” Buffy replied dryly before changing the subject to safer territory. “What do you have planned today?”

“Marathon on the Telly.”

“Very productive.”

Spike shrugged. “Hey, it’s all for research, right?”

“Right.” Buffy tried to smile, but it turned into yet another yawn. She sighed trying to hide her exhaustion.

Spike’s gaze roamed over her face. “You look a bit knackered.”

“Hard night.”

Spike nodded. “You aren’t alone, pet, but we’ll find our way back home.”

 She nodded. What else could she do? She couldn’t admit that the dilemma of finding a way home hadn’t entered her mind all night, that he had consumed her thoughts.  It was quite pathetic by any woman’s standards, but she was the leader of the slayers. She should’ve been able to shove away unsure feelings over an ex and get on with leading.

“It’s getting late,” Spike said as he glanced at the microwave clock and then headed into the living room.

“For what?” Buffy shook off her melancholy and followed, plopping down on the sofa next to him. “What is this show called?”

Spike aimed the remote at the television as he replied, “ _The Chosen One.”_

Oh hell no.

The screen flashed on to an eerily recognizable scene. “Honey, we need to talk about the invitations. Now, do you wanna be Thomas the Bloody, or just Slash?” the spell-induced slayer asked as she sat on the lap of the peroxide-haired vampire. “‘Cause, either way, it's gonna look majorly weird.”

“Whereas the name Steffy gives it that touch of classic elegance,” Slash retorted.

“What's wrong with Steffy?”

“Bloody hell.” Spike scoffed. “Freddie ought to stick to playing with _Scooby Doo._ The fella can’t be me, not with that sodding fake accent.”

“Well, I’ve got _The Ghost Whisperer_ as my alter ego. It’s a tossup,” Buffy said dryly before grimacing as the TV couple kissed. “Yuck. No way were we that disgustingly lovey dovey, in front of Giles no less.”

Spike shook his head. “Hardly, Slayer. We were more so.”

“I must’ve blocked that out,” she replied wryly.

With that, her unsure feelings went to the backburner for a little while as they became absorbed with the weird depiction of their past.

……………………………………………………..

Spike stepped into the large backroom of _The True Love Bar &Grill. _It was quite posh, he reckoned as he took a quick glance around. A hockey game played on the telly across the room. Right in front of it sat a pool table, with a good-sized refrigerator in the adjacent corner. Just all the comforts of home for your average bloke.

Spike spotted Pacey seated at the poker table in the middle of the room with two of his guests. It was odd being able to put names to faces who technically ought to be strangers. They were not the characters that he’d judged and ridiculed from the privacy of his crypt every Wednesday night, he reminded himself. Here, they were living and breathing human-beings.

“Hey Spike!” Pacey called him over as he got to his feet. “Glad you made it!”

“Didn’t take you for a shady sort, mate,” Spike joked as they shook hands. “Back room gambling, innit?”

“Only for tonight, I’m afraid.” Pacey chuckled. “My surly sheriff of a brother would have me in lockup so fast and he doesn’t even have jurisdiction here.”

“Bet your ass I would, little brother.” The bloke in question smiled and slapped Pacey on the back before holding his hand out to Spike. “Hey, I’m Doug.”

Spike shook it and exchanged pleasantries, trying not to let his dislike for the arrogant git to show. Pacey had to deal with lots of taunting and ridicule from his brother.  Spike could easily relate to Pacey from the harsh slights that he endured in London society as a human.

 In all fairness, though, things had improved for Pacey and his family. Doug seemed to become a better brother once he’d stopped hiding from his true self and found love with Pacey’s good mate Jack.

If only life and love was that bleeding simple for everyone, Spike thought grimly as he greeted Jack. Spike had conquered his demon, but the love part remained a struggle.  

All day he had tried to give Buffy space and not pressure her about what was so obviously troubling her. But it was killing him to stay silent. He knew exactly why she’d run into her room last night. He’d seen it in her face, in her eyes.

Then today, he’d thought he seen that look again, but Buffy started acting like they were just two old chums watching the telly. Nothing sparked between them, not even a sodding tingle. Don’t get him wrong, Spike relished trading barbs with Buffy, even with their poor entertainment, but he just wished that they were on their way to _something._

Spike broke out of his reverie as Jack laughed and said, “Forgive me, but I gotta say that you look an awful lot like that dude Slash, you know, from that TV show.”

“I don’t think so, mate,” Spike scoffed. “We’ve got clearly different looks and he’s duller than watching a bowling tournament.”

Jack chuckled, but before he could comment, a new voice entered the room

“Hey guys.”

Spike turned his head to see Mr. Hollywood himself walk in looking haggard and disheveled with a wrinkled shirt, tousled hair, and all. Spike was never a big fan of the idealist Dawson Leery, but the bloke sure knew how to make an entrance.

“Dawson, what happened to you, man?” Pacey asked and then lightly said, “I was beginning to wonder if you had second thoughts about being my best man.”

“I’d be happy to step in,” Doug replied dryly. “I’m the brother after all.”

Dawson shook his head and sighed. “Sorry to disappoint you guys, but it was just a four-hour plane delay due to a storm. Besides you know Joey would kill me if I backed out now.”

“You and me both, my friend,” Pacey joked.

As Spike watched the exchange between the childhood friends, Jack handed him a Budweiser and he took a few swigs, trying to figure out what the big bad could possibly have planned for this group, if anything at all. Was the Entertainer responsible for the plane delay?  If that was the case, it seemed like hell of a weak attempt to cause a catastrophe Maybe the truth lay with the Dawson-Joey-Pacey triangle. Maybe the evil plan was to cause a rift between the three chums, but it sounded all bloody juvenile and not worthy of having the slayer as a witness.

A short time later, Pacey introduced Spike to Dawson as “his biggest fan.” After an endless couple minutes of talk about how much Spike “loved” _The Creek,_ the men finally sat down to play poker.

“Wait, wait, you guys, I’ve got something to say before we deal,” Dawson called out to everyone and stood up, halting voices around the table and having all eyes turn to him. “I just wanna make a toast to Pacey—”

“Nah, Dawson.” Pacey put up his hand. “Save it for the wedding reception.”

“It’ll be brief, Pace, don’t worry. I’m just gonna say that despite the geographical gap between coasts, and my tardiness tonight— and yeah, my failure to follow through with the customary best man duty to obtain strippers. I’m—” Dawson paused for some laughter. “I’m honored to stand beside you as you wed my other best friend. The past is the past. We all know that I didn’t always welcome the idea of you and Joey together, but now I can’t imagine it any other way. He raised his beer bottle to Pacey. “Cheers, man.”

Pacey grinned. “Thanks, man, it means a lot. Now let’s get down to serious business of playing some poker.” He gave the table a robust tap.

And just like that the past burned into ash, Spike mused as he brought his drink to his mouth. He tilted the bottle and— out of the corner of his eye, he saw a cloaked figure flicker across the telly. His head snapped toward the screen. Nothing.

Only a Bruins goal instant replay.

Yeah, right.

They had an unwelcome guest. Of that, Spike was bloody sure.

…………………………………………………………………

Buffy and Dawn followed Joey and her other party guests toward the only two empty booths in the _Contemporary American Restaurant_ lounge. It was their last-ditch effort to save the night after Joey’s sister Bessie had gotten into a heated argument with the manager who’d lost their reservation. Now they had to stay in the crowded bar area.

“The bartender’s a cutie.” Joey’s longtime gal pal Audrey smiled when everyone else took a seat. “I’ll get us some more drinks.”

“Oooh, Audrey,” Buffy called back at her and she turned around. “Could you pleassse get me a Piña **Colada** **?”**

After a nod, the blond walked off.

Dawn looked at her sister hesitantly. “Do you think that’s such a good idea, Buffy?”

“Dawnie, I’m fine, maybe just a bit tipsy, but fine,” she said cheerfully, thanks to the few glasses of complimentary bubbly she’d had at the bar earlier while they’d waited for Joey and Bessie to do damage control. Buffy knew that a little alcohol wouldn’t erase her list of worries, but it sure did help her relax.

The day had been such a mixed bag. At first, it was fun hanging out with Spike and watching that God-awful marathon, nitpicking apart their alter egos. Then, as they sat there through one episode after another, it had slowly settled over Buffy once again how far they had come, as individuals, as allies, and as friends.

And she grew more uncertain of their future. Was wanting more truly worth risking a priceless friendship? There were no guarantees in long haul relationships, especially for someone with her history.

Plus, there were other concerns that were eating her up that should take priority. Willow had texted Buffy an hour ago saying she was potentially zeroing in on a big break and she would get back to her as soon as possible. Buffy knew that she should be out there with Willow, tracking down a break, finding The Entertainer, but _something_ told her to stick by Joey’s side.

A lost bachelorette party reservation could be a minor hiccup in the grand scheme of regular wedding hoopla, but Buffy didn’t want to take anything for granted.

“I still can’t believe such an upscale establishment would be so careless as to allow a reservation to just disappear,” Bessie said for the tenth time that evening, drawing Buffy out of her thoughts.

“It’s okay, Bess.” Joey reassured her sister. “It’s not like Pacey’s having a big extravagant bachelor party. I really didn’t want a lot of fuss.”

“I just wanted to do something special for you, Jo,” Bessie replied. “You’ve grown from such a wary girl into a strong, confident woman in a short while. I’m just so proud of you.”

As Buffy listened to the Hallmark-worthy moment between the sisters, she looked over at her own baby sister next to her, laughing with another guest. How had things gotten so blurred? Just like Buffy, Bessie had become Joey’s legal guardian when their mom passed, but that’s where the similarities ended. Dawn had transformed into Buffy’s mother hen the last few days, if not for a bit longer.

Joey rolled her eyes and laughed. “I’m still that wary girl. I just got better at hiding it.”

Buffy took in her words and found herself saying to Joey, “Wariness is not a friend, that’s for sure. More like an annoying enemy who won’t die.  How do you deal?”

The bride-to-be looked across the table at Buffy and shrugged. “Well, I guess, I just stopped letting fear dictate what I want to do, or uh, who I want to be with, to be more accurate.”  

Buffy sighed and rambled. “Nothing’s that easy. It’s a constant revolving door of comings and goings and staying gones _—_ and comings again”

“You’re right.” Joey gave a weak smile before carefully asking, “You’re thinking about Spike, aren’t you?”

“She’s always thinking of Spike.” Dawn smirked.

Buffy slapped her sister’s shoulder before Dawn went back to talking with someone else.

Joey grinned before saying, “Sorry, it’s none of my business, but Pacey just told me a little about the two of you.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot the boys have been quite chatty,” Buffy replied dryly and then sighed. “We’re not a we, Spike and me, never were, really. We’re _—_ or more like I’m trying to get over past baggage, messy baggage, really, quite dirty, actually.”

Joey snickered and nodded. “I’ve been there. I’m still there, but I realized _—_ after a close friend of ours passed _—_ that you need to take a chance when it comes. Yeah, there’s only imperfect fairytales. It’s always a work in progress, but it’s worth it.”

“Sorta like saving the world from evil baddies,” Buffy unintentionally mumbled out loud, earning her a few side-eye glances from the other guests.

“Alrighty, these are on the house, guys!” Audrey’s jubilant return stole everyone’s attention. She carried a couple drinks in her hands while a bow-tied waiter served the rest from a tray. “Here you go, my dear,” Audrey placed a frosty Piña Colada in front of Buffy, triggering a sudden flicker of memory.

_“My dear.” The Entertainer’s voice had stopped her in her tracks and she’d spun around_ _. “My dear, I can help you have a second chance with Spike.” The indulgence demon had grinned at her from her living room TV the night of her birthday, after all her guests had left her alone to sort out her feelings after some revelations had come to light, after Andrew had spilled the beans about Spike being alive._

_“Nice try,” Buffy replied as she stood there, scowling at the tuxedo clad beast. She drained the last drops of yet another cocktail, trying to numb the hurt of betrayal.  “No second chances here, buddy.” She scoffed.  “Spike’s been dead and he should stay away_ _—_ _away_ _off this planet, for all I care._ _” She lazily shot her arm up like a rocket ship taking flight._   _“Bang zoom, out of this universe.”_

_The Entertainer smirked. “You mean it?”_

_She bobbed her head. “Yes sirree, there’s no love here.”_

Oh, God! What had she done? Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the truth from her memory.

…………………………………………………………………….

Spike glanced at the telly for the hundredth time in three hours. The bloody Entertainer still hadn’t come out of the shadows, but he knew the git was there, skulking like an annoying rat.

“Well, I’m out.” Pacey put down his hand and leaned back. He had been the only hold out against Spike once again.

Spike turned back to the game and grinned as he lay down his straight flush, his third win of the night. “Sorry, Witter, really hate to do this to you before your wedding, mate.”

Pacey chuckled. “Right, I’m just glad that we weren’t playing for real cash, or I’d have to deal with a pissed off bride on our honeymoon,” he said as Spike collected the heap of coins in the center of the table.

“As much fun as it’s been seeing you lose, little brother, Jack and I can’t afford to lose anymore,” Doug said standing up. It was after one in the morning and the bloke looked knackered.

“Yeah, Grams’ probably exhausted after a whole night with tornado Amy at the hotel,” Jack said, referring to his two-year-old adoptive daughter, as he put on his jacket. Pacey and Dawson saw the other two men out, leaving Spike in the backroom alone with the beastie. Spike stalked toward the telly, yelling, “Come out! Come out! They’re gone, you sodding nit!”

He waited.

Nothing.

“Bollocks!” Spike rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and then said, “Never figured you for a bloody coward. You zapped us into this alternate dimension, but you won’t tell us why” He started to back away.

A whisper of a cackle made him freeze.

He stepped back.

The Entertainer came like a bolt of lightning onto the screen that featured an infomercial for a potato cutter. He threw off a black hood to reveal golden skin and a twisty sneer. A sneer that was meant to be threatening.

Spike wasn’t fazed. “You aren’t a good-looking fella, are you?”

“There you go with the insults again.” The demon sighed. “After the big favor I did for you, Spike, I should have a little gratitude.”

It was Spike’s turn to cackle. “I’ve never met you before, in all my existence. What bloody favor?”

“Oh, right, you cannot remember.” A scaly hand pressed up against the screen. “Let me help you,” The Entertainer hissed.

Spike winced as a bright flash shot through his brain.

_He was missing her birthday again, Spike had mused, lying in bed with a bottle of whiskey. She was having a party, he had known from Andrew’s constant updates, not that Spike had asked mind you. This party would probably end with terror and bloodshed like all the rest—and he wouldn’t be there to help._

_Spike gulped down more whiskey, savoring the burn down his throat to his gut. He wanted to get sloshed, so he couldn’t think about his idiotic mistakes., all the what ifs…_

_“This breaks my heart.”_

_Who in the bloody hell is that? Spike bolted upright, his eyes snapping to every corner of the dim room until they landed on the telly._

_The ugly face looked back at Spike like he knew a juicy secret. “I know how to make everything better for you, Spike. You miss her, but you don’t have to any longer.”_

_“Who the devil are you?”_

_“You can just think of me as a friend” The beastie tried to gentle his sneer, but it just made it worse. “I can give you a second chance with your lost lady love without any messy mistakes on your part.”_

_“What’s in it for you?”_

_“Let’s just say I want to make this right with my own lost love. What do you say?”_

_“Yeah, whatever, mate,” Spike murmured as he lay back down and closed his eyes._

……………………………………

“I was bloody sloshed!” Spike roared at The Entertainer now. “I didn’t even think you were real.”

“Oh well.”

Spike wanted to tear that smirk right off the monster’s face and beat him with it. “You’re an indulgence demon, I know that now. What did you indulge in by sending us here?”

“Well, entertainment, of course.” The Entertainer chuckled at his own ironic joke. “I got to see my two favorite couples in one world.  My favorite slayer and vampire interacting with the _Dawson’s Creek_ hit pairing, but I’ve got to admit the poker game was an unexpected treat that I had to crash.”

“All right, it was a bleeding good time,” Spike replied wryly. “Now, send us back home!

“I’m afraid only Buffy can do that now.”

“How?”

The Entertainer wagged his finger. “Now, now, if I told you, it would be cheating, but she better do it before Pacey and Joey say their vows or your two universes will be destroyed forever.”

 

 

 

 

  


 

  
  


 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

 

Ugh, Buffy struggled to sit up on the sofa.  squinting as the bright lights of the city filtered through the blinds. She must have fallen asleep. Now her head pulsed as if someone had relentlessly thrashed her brain up against a brick wall, just for kicks. Never again would she drink a drop of alcohol —especially now that she remembered that it had been her drunkenness that had initiated this little trip into another dimension.

She’d been the scorned lover who played right into the manipulated hand of The Entertainer. And God only knew what that meant now. Had she broken his curse? Had she set him free from the confines of his television prison?

Buffy glanced at the time on her cell. It was already 5:34 am. Where was Willow? Where was Spike? The sun would be up in an hour or so. She slowly walked over to the window and peered out. A sliver of soft pink hovered just above New York’s moonlit horizon

Where were they?

Where was he?

To get away from the crowded bar scene, the bachelorette party had drifted over to Joey’s loft apartment in the East Village.  It had been a little after one when Buffy and Dawn left.  They’d gone to the _True Love_ to meet Spike, but the restaurant had already closed for the night. Buffy had figured that he would be back at Dawn’s apartment, but she was wrong. Spike hadn’t even responded to her calls or texts.

What could have —?

Rattling of the knob, a click of the lock, and the door opened. Buffy snapped her head toward the arrival, expectantly. Spike cautiously crept in and shut the door, his bleached hair acting as a beacon to his arrival in the hazy darkness of the living room.

“Where have you been?” Buffy asked wearily.

Spike leapt back, hitting his head against the door. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, rubbing at the sore spot. “I didn’t want to wake you, Slayer.”

“I was already up.”

He came toward her, holding out a brown paper bag. “Sorry, if I worried you, love, just thought I’d stock up on some cow blood.”

Buffy raised both of her brows. “All night?”

“Well, not really, no.” Spike’s gaze veered away from her face. “Before the butcher opened, I went for a long walk. Clear my head after the party,” he said, strolling past her into the kitchen.as if he wanted to end the conversation.

Buffy stood still and watched him through the archway. “You went for an all-night walk to clear your head, “she stated more to herself than to him before asking, “What exactly happened at that poker game?”

Spike scoffed and fell silent as he placed the bag in the fridge and closed it. “Funny thing happened, actually,” he began to say, moving back into the other room. He leaned a shoulder against the wall by the archway, his eyes meeting Buffy’s once again. “Our ever so playful beastie decided to crash the game.”

Her throat tightened into a brittle ball as she stepped closer to Spike. “What do you mean? Is he—uh, is he free?”

Spike shook his head. “He’s still trapped in telly land, thankfully unable to annoy any dimension from the outside.”

“Thank God.” Buffy sighed, feeling brief relief before a new set of questions formed in her head. “What did the reptile say? Did anyone else see him? What does he want?”

It was Spike’s turn to sigh. “Nobody else had the unpleasant experience, no. The Entertainer just wants my gratitude for our little reunion if you can believe it.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I set this whole sodding mess into motion, Buffy,” he replied regretfully.

She vehemently shook her head and revealed the truth. “No, Spike, you weren’t. I, uh, I don’t know what that asshole’s trying to pull, but this is my doing. You see, um, I remember what happened the night of my birthday, okay? This was all my fault.”

Spike straightened up. “No, Buffy. I remember, alright? I was sloshed and missed you—"

 Buffy spoke over him, not really taking in what he was saying. “I was drunk and I was pissed at you for being alive and not coming to me—.”

“Why won’t you let me take responsibility? I did it!” Spike yelled, silencing her for only a second.

“No. God, Spike, I was the one who did it! If you’d let me explain—.”

“Bollocks, woman, you‘re so bloody stubborn! Let me tell you what I did!”

The apartment door slammed, hard.

“You both did it!”

Buffy and Spike turned toward the new voice, their verbal battle momentarily forgotten.

Willow smiled remorsefully. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scream like a banshee, but your fighting was dizzily pointless.”

“Will, how long have you been standing there?” Buffy asked.

“Long enough.”

“Late night for you, Red?” Spike lifted a brow.

“Willow’s been tracking down a big lead,” Buffy informed him and then turned to Willow. “What do you mean we both did it?”

“It was a unique connection spell.” Willow took off her jacket as she continued, “The spell only allows the two of you to open the portal.”

“Well, at least we’re getting somewhere.” Spike said gratefully.

Willow moved across the room and switched on the lamp near the sofa. “I just spent a total of twelve hours on a murky bus and need some brightness.”

Buffy eyes widened.  “Yeah, I was getting worried about you. Where exactly did you go?”

 The redhead sat down and took a deep breath. “Short story would be Capeside, Massachusetts.”

“I reckon that’s the hometown of Pacey and Joey, innit?” Spike supplied. “It’s a fictional town in our dimension from _Dawson’s Creek._  They ended up in New York in the finale five years into the future. _”_

Why was she having a hard time remembering that? Buffy wondered. She still had only an out of reach familiarity of Pacey and Joey that dangled over her head. When she thought of their story, however, this alternate universe’s show _The Creek_ came to mind. Spike was the only one who could distinguish between the two dimensions, even if it was merely to an extent. But they’d both evidently opened the portal. How did that make any damn sense? Some connection spell.

“What’s all the noise?” Dawn asked woozily as she staggered from the bedroom. She looked between Spike and Willow. “Oh, where’ve you guys been?”

“Spike took a long walk to think and stopped by the butcher. Willow had a long bus ride to and from Capeside where Pacey and Joey grew up. Oh, and Spike and I supposedly opened the portal.” Buffy quickly summed up matter-of-factly. “There, all caught up.  Now that everyone’s here, Will, please give us the long story.”

“Okay,” Willow said and took a deep breath. “Yesterday, I discovered that there’s an actual coven in the Manhattan Chinatown, so I decided to check it out and hopefully get some kind of scoop.”

“There’s actual covens of witches here?” Buffy asked, once again feeling disappointed in herself for not being on top of these things.

Willow nodded. “Apparently this place has some covens, but it’s pretty much vamp and demon free, well, except for those like our friendly Entertainer buddy who can cross dimensions. Anyway, it’s a pretty conservative coven that doesn’t believe in demons in any form. The group gave me weird looks when I asked about The Entertainer. They just work with potions and spells. I was about to give up, but then one of them mentioned a crazy fortuneteller by the name of Madame Anna Zenovich who insists that her sister cursed her demon lover into the TV and the Madame just so happens to live in Capeside.”

“Bingo,” Buffy replied, completely enthralled. She sat down on the other end of the couch while Spike and Dawn took the armchairs on either side. “So, you met with this Madame Zenovich?” she asked Willow.

“The Madame acted like I was a dear lost friend. Poor thing. It turns out she lives in a retirement community and I, uh, don’t think the she gets that many visitors. She was absolutely giddy to share her story, and with someone who actually believed her,” Willow began, setting the framework for the fortuneteller’s account of what had happened between her younger sister Dana and The Entertainer.  
  
As young girls, both Anna and Dana Zenovich had been believers in magical worlds, worlds that made anything possible. But as the sisters grew older, Anna’s beliefs had strengthened due to the discovery of her true gift of predicting the future.  Dana’s beliefs, on the other hand, had wavered when she developed severe scoliosis, causing her to feel like a human pretzel due to her curved spine. She’d isolated herself from the world— including from her own sister.

Despite many attempts, Anna hadn’t seen her for ten long years until one-day Dana breezed through her door, radiant with a back as straight as an arrow.  The woman had beamed when she told Anna that she’d fallen in love with an amazing gentleman. He went by the surname of Lee, simply Lee. Lee would always appear and keep her company while she waited to see her doctor at the hospital. He would captivate her with stories of his many adventures to different lands, promising to take her with him on his travels, someday, when she was well. At first, Dana had pushed that notion away until Lee revealed that he knew a magic cure for her disfigurement.

It had been some time later when Anna found out that Dana meant a magic cure, _literally._ The cure was actually a healing spell: something that Dana had always believed was a myth until it’d cured her of her suffering. Little by little, Dana had divulged more to Anna about her supernatural lover and his special gifts, including altering his physical appearance from man to beast, which apparently hardly fazed the fully recovered woman. She’d seen him as the most perfect man.

 Anna, however, had taken this with a huge grain of salt. She’d lost her beliefs, after all, even though she kept silent to prevent a rift with Dana. As more time past, though, Dana’s love affair had begun to sour. Her adventurous out-of- this-world lover, who’d given the woman her life back, had become lazy and more infatuated with the make-believe happenings on the television than with Dana causing her to become angered and restless.

After years of being cooped up, she’d longed for adventure and romance. One evening Dana’s frustration hit its peak. She’d stormed over to Anna’s, sobbing that Lee had never intended to keep his promises. He’d admitted that he only wanted a chance to play someone’s hero like in the movies, causing Dana to lose all reason. Taking a lesson from his own book, she cursed him—her only love—not only into the world that he seemingly loved so much, but she’d made it so that he would forever be the beast he truly was.

“Unlike what we’d thought, there was only one scorned lover who could free Lee or, uh, The Entertainer from the curse, and that would be Dana,” Willow explained. “And unfortunately for him, Dana passed away in her sleep shortly after the spell was cast. The Madame says the coroner’s report lists cardiac arrest as the cause of death.”

“Talk about tragic love.” Buffy sighed. “I almost feel sorry for the evil reptile. I don’t get, though, why Madame Zenovich told you this if she didn’t truly believe it herself.”

“Now she does,” Willow said. “The Entertainer has been visiting her through the TV since Dana died. Initially, he taunted her, taking his anger at one sister out on the other, but lately he’s been using her as a sounding board, almost confiding in her. It’s how the Madame knows that The Entertainer used the connection spell on the two of you.” Willow looked at both Spike and Buffy. “The spell was for two estranged lovers. That’s you. It seems Dawn and I were just collateral damage, at the wrong place at the wrong time, you know, staying in the same apartment when the portal opened for Buffy.”

“Well, I take it, then, that the portal isn’t at a specific place, like we originally thought from the documentation,” Buffy said, trying to put all the many pieces together. “If Spike and I both verbally opened the portal to get us here, we need to do it, again. What do we say? What are the magic words?”

Willow tiredly shook her head “I don’t know. The Madame didn’t know.”

“How convenient,” Spike replied dryly. “For a fortuneteller and all.”

“Well,” Willow countered, “she says she has trouble reading him. Maybe ‘cause he’s non-human.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Hey, maybe if you guys click your heels together three times,” Dawn offered.  “The guy is obsessed with movies.”

Buffy looked at her sister sharply, then slightly smiled. “If only it was that simple.”

“The git could be lying,” Spike said as he leaned forward in his chair, “He did make me believe that I was the only one responsible for our little journey here, and, uh, that Buffy was the only one who could save us. But just to let you know, the git also mentioned that we only have until Pacey and Joey say their vows, or both dimensions will be dust.”

“Okay, good to know.” Buffy replied wryly. They at least had more than her gut feeling now. “That still gives us about thirty-six hours to find the answer If we don’t, we may just have to stop a wedding.”

The clock was ticking.

…………………………………………………………….

 As they stepped into the serene chapel the next afternoon, Buffy said to Willow and Dawn with feigned elation. “So, how do we stop a happy couple from saying ‘I do?’”

T-minus two hours and counting, Buffy thought as goose bumps broke out on her arms. They still were no closer to preventing an apocalypse. It seemed like the easiest of solutions. All they had to do was find the right words. Why was it so hard?

She had compared notes with Spike. They both had been wasted when they’d unknowingly accepted The Entertainer’s so-called help. But neither one of them remembered key words being used during either exchange that could possibly be the answer to getting back home.

“Let me try Madame Zenovich again,” Willow said, taking her cell out of her purse. Even though the fortuneteller had no luck using her psychic powers on The Entertainer, they hoped that she could find an old diary of Dana’s or a spell book that would point them in the right direction.

The chapel door swished open and Spike stumbled in. He was covered head-to-toe in a fireproofed blanket, which he quickly shed, shoving it under a pew. “Nice place,” he said, looking around the candlelit nave and the white and lavender orchid-adorned mahogany pews and altar.

 His gaze then fell on Buffy, sweeping over her simple lavender-knit dress and her elegant French twist that left some tendrils loose around her face. “You look lovely,” he said approvingly.

“What? This thing,” Buffy replied kind of coyly, glancing down at herself. She hadn’t planned on being invited to a wedding on this visit to see Dawn, so she’d picked the first appropriate outfit out of her luggage.

Spike, on the other hand, seemed to have gone shopping. “Nifty shirt,” she said, her eyes moving over his button-down, black shirt that was opened at the collar, bringing out the amazing blue of his eyes. “Is that why you ran out earlier? Almost got yourself dusted?”

Spike shrugged. “There’s a shop across the street and I got bloody tired of wearing t-shirts.”

“Well, you look good,” Buffy said, looking warmly into his eyes.

Willow coughed. “It’s stuffy in here. I’m, uh, I’m gonna go get some fresh air and make the call.”

Buffy turned her head, catching Willow’s jerky head motion at Dawn.

Dawn coughed. “I’m gonna go, too.”

The two ladies scurried away, leaving Buffy alone with Spike. Nobody else had arrived yet, but Buffy knew the wedding party and guests would be here momentarily. She rolled her eyes as the door shut behind her sister and best friend. “They can’t be less subtle, can they?”

Spike gave a small smile. “This is different, innit? From the last time we were in a chapel together, “he said, seemingly getting distracted with something behind Buffy. He stepped around her, moving down the center aisle.

Buffy watched him as he stared up at the crucifix above a brilliant stained-glass image of angels. Instantly, she knew what he was thinking. How could she forget the last time?  He’d achingly bared his soul to her that night, his words cutting through to her heart. _She shall look on him with forgiveness, and everybody will forgive and love. He will be loved._ Her eyes closed as she remembered how vulnerable he had been with his exposed body draped over the smoking cross.

“I was out of my skull that night,” Spike said as if he was miles away. “I was caught between hatred for myself and love for you. I just wanted to be worthy of you—but all my soul did was make me realize that I didn’t deserve you.”

“Spike, no,” Buffy whispered, the anguish in his voice hitting her heart with blunt force. She wanted to beat it away. “It’s not true.”

“But it’s how I felt, Buffy.” He turned to her then as if the answer to a crucial question just occurred to him. “And I reckon this is what it’s all about.”

 “What are you saying, Spike?”

“I missed the significance of something The Entertainer said,” Spike replied. “This is all about how he feels. He told me he wanted to make it right with his lost love. Maybe this doesn’t only have to do with some bloody fun and games or ending the world. Maybe, in his own twisted way, he’s trying to make things right —Just like I did by getting my soul back, or just like trying to protect Dawn after you died, out of regret and love for you.”

Buffy shook her head and sighed. “You can hardly compare the two situations. Okay, say The Entertainer pushed Dana away for her own good, and later regretted it after the curse and because she passed, but it doesn’t add up to sending a group of people to sink or swim in another dimension.”

“He did ask us both if we wanted a second chance,” he reminded her.

“It still doesn’t add up, Spike. How does fighting to get home together equal second chance?” she argued, then softened her tone to say, “Spike, you almost killed yourself to be a better man and I love you for it. I just don’t see a comparison. What you did was brave and what this guy did is diabolical at best.”

Spike stilled. “What did you say?”

“What? I just don’t see —.”

“No, not that.” He waved his hand. “Before that, the other thing.”

Her eyes gentled as she realized what she’d actually admitted, so she admitted it again.  “I love you, Spike.” She smiled slightly at how good it felt, and said it again. “I love you. And it’s in the present tense. I have for a long time. I loved you in the hellmouth and I love you now, Spike.”

Spike looked at her in wonder —then suddenly his eyes rounded in alarm. Buffy stiffened, her body growing numb when she saw it. A whirlpool of vibrant light rushed beneath their feet, flooding the whole chapel and sucking them under until they were completely gone.

……………………………………………….

Buffy kept her eyes shut as her heart rapidly hammered against her chest. Her hands moved around the ground, a soft, cushy ground. “Sp—Spike,” she mumbled as she slowly lifted one eyelid and then the other, seeing only gray carpet looking back at her. “Spike,” she said louder, staggering to her feet.

“SPIKE!” Buffy screamed as her surroundings tilted this way and that way. Her hand flew to her forehead. Breathe, she ordered herself, in and out, in and out. The room steadied, the room that was her living room in her London flat, she realized, and then another thought gripped her. “DAWN!” she hollered, running down the hall toward the bedrooms. “WILLOW! DAWN! WILLOW!”

They had been outside the chapel when the portal opened What if—? Doors swung open and Buffy found herself being squeezed into a group hug by her sister and best friend.

“Oh, God, Buffy,” Dawn said. “What just happened?”

“One minute we’re walking back in,” Willow chattered excitedly, “and, and the next—the light.” Her arms flailed as she looked around their flat, clearly astounded. “Now we’re home.”

 “I know,” Buffy said in a reassuring tone. “I’m just glad we’re all back.” Her mind wandered back to Spike. He probably reentered this universe wherever he’d left it just like they’d seemed to do. She hoped that was the case.

“How?” Dawn asked. “How did we get back?”

“Madame Zenovich didn’t have new info,” Willow put in. “She just got fortuneteller-y and said Buffy needed to be true to her heart and it would be our answer.”

“Well, I guess, I did, then” Buffy replied carefully, “I think, uh, I unknowingly did it by telling Spike that, uh, I loved him and I think I finally owned it. I mean, I didn’t try to back down from it this time.”

“Really?” Dawn grinned.

“Good for you, Buff.” Willow said chirpily. “It would’ve helped if you’d done it sooner, but I’m not gonna be too picky.”

 “Thanks for that, Will, I guess,” Buffy replied wryly, turning back to the living room before she was bombarded with more questions. Her head swirled with all that had happened. _My dear, I can help you have a second chance with Spike…_ _Yeah, I was having a super-duper time after all the bloodshed and thinking you were gone for good, Spike…_ _God, you’re a moron. Don’t you get it? I missed you… I missed you, too, love…_ _Yuck. No way were we that disgustingly lovey dovey, in front of Giles no less._ _It’s, it’s a show within the true show Dawson’s Creek and I spoke to one of the characters tonight. I spoke to the real flesh and blood Petey tonight…I love you, Spike. I love you… They ended up in New York in the finale five years into the future._

“Five years into the future?” Buffy muttered to herself, pulling out of her momentary stupor and racing to her desk, Willow and Dawn on her heels.

“What is it, Buffy?” Willow prodded.

It couldn’t be, Buffy thought as she checked the date on her laptop.

 March 7, 2004.

Oh, My God.

It was true. They were not only back home, but they’d just come back from a time jump in the other dimension. That insane son of a bitch must have implanted all of them with five years of fake memories.

“Oh, wow,” Willow breathed, looking over Buffy’s shoulder and seemingly coming to the same conclusion.

“Seriously, you guys are scaring me,” Dawn said hesitantly. “What now?”

“Looks like we went back to the future, so to speak,” Buffy replied, glancing down at Dawn’s schoolbag propped up next to the desk with a high school chemistry textbook peeking out. “The Entertainer had fun playing with our memories along with everything else.”

“You’re telling me I’m still a high school senior?” Dawn glowered. “But I was almost done with college over there!”

“I know this whole thing sucks for all of us,” Buffy sighed tiredly. Not only had this timeline gap affected Dawn’s academic career, Buffy realized, but a lot of her own life was still a work in progress. The First had only been defeated less than a year ago. The slayer training academy was still in the early stages. Giles was still putting together a new council and they’d only recruited a few more slayers over the last couple months. They desperately needed more help. Xander was still off on his cross-country trip and Willow had just returned from her parents in Connecticut for Buffy’s birthday.

As Buffy sorted out these true memories from her mind, the false memories started to get hazy like an intense dream after waking up—a dream that had fooled her into thinking Spike had been gone for five years, she realized. He still hadn’t come to her immediately after his resurrection. She’d still struggled unnecessarily with restless nights missing him, longing for him. But right now, it didn’t matter.

She only wanted to see him.

“Where’s Spike?” Willow asked as if reading her thoughts.

“I don’t know.” Buffy replied, failing to keep the frustration out of her voice. “I’m guessing L.A. where the portal opened for him, but I wanna know for sure.” She reached for her cell and then noted that she still wore the same pocket-less lavender dress that she’d been wearing in the chapel. Her eyes scanned the room and spotted her everyday jacket draped over a chair and dug through the pockets. She pulled out her cell—her less advanced cell than in the futuristic universe. A new text message had just been received moments ago.

_Meet me at The Brew tonight.  I’ll be there._

A bemused smile swept across her face.

“Buffy, what is it?” Dawn mimicked the smile.

“It’s Spike. He’s at The Brew.”

“The former coffee shop in New York?  Over there?”

“No, Spike’s coming here. To London.”

……………………………………………..

They did it, Joey mused, they were finally married. It was her first peaceful moment all day and she let the thrilling notion truly sink in after the rollercoaster of wedding madness. The usually busy _True Love_ was temporarily turned into a glamorous reception for family and friends.  Joey stood by the main table and sipped her champagne, watching their guests mingle about _,_ enjoying the delicious food and infinite number of free drinks.  

It couldn’t have been a more perfect day, excluding her almost stumble down the aisle. Even that, though, hadn’t destroyed this day. It had already become a silly anecdote that would be told for generations to come.

“You having second thoughts there, Potter?” Pacey whispered lightly into her ear as his arms slid around her waist, drawing her back against him.

Joey tilted her head toward him, her lips spreading into a teasing smile. “Not a chance, Witter. And it’s Mrs. Witter now.”

“How could I ever forget?” Pacey grinned and kissed her forehead.

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt,” Jack laughingly said, limping toward them with his young daughter gripped to his leg. “But this flower girl wants to ask you something?”

Joey knelt down carefully in her gown, smiling at the curly blond-haired little girl. “What can I do for you?”

“Wanna cut cake?” Amy asked before burying her face back into her father’s leg.

“Well,” Joey replied, “after Uncle Pacey and I have our first dance, then it’ll be cake time, okay, sweetie?”

Amy nodded.

“I can’t wait for cake, either,” Pacey said conspiratorially.

“Hey, Pace, where’s that Spike guy?” Jack asked, his eyes scanning the crowd.

Pacey shrugged. “We invited them. Something must’ve come up.”

“You know, it’s strange, but it just dawned on me who the dude really is,” Jack replied flippantly. “He must be really dedicated to his job.”

“Why do you say that?” Joey slowly stood back up.

“He must go in-character to Comic-Cons or something,” Jack said. “His resemblance to the original actor is really uncanny.”

“Jack, man, what are ya talking about?” Pacey asked with narrowed brows.

“You don’t see it? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Dawson hired him for the bachelor party. C’mon, he’s Spike from _Buffy.”_ Jack laughed as if he’d figured out a practical joke.

Joey shared an agape look with Pacey. They had both thought Spike and Buffy seemed familiar, but neither one of them had connected the dots to the popular television show. God, it was so glaring now. Were they being played by the duo? Joey wondered. Who were they really? “Buffy” had seemed so authentic at the bachelorette party. Her raw pain and frustration over the past couldn’t have been entirely phony “There has to be a good explan—"

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s that time,” the DJ announced, cutting off her train of thought.  “Will Pacey and Josephine Witter please make their way onto the floor for their first dance as husband and wife?”

Pacey gazed at her with his adoring let’s-do-this expression, holding out his open palm toward her.  Joey gladly took it and they moved onto the dance floor, effortlessly falling into step with the beat to their chosen song.

_Look into my eyes – you will see_

_What you mean to me._

_Search your heart, search your soul_

_And when you find me there you’ll search no more._

“It’s insane, right?’ Joey asked Pacey, unable to let go of the nagging feeling as they slowly spun around the room “We heard Jack wrong, right?  Or were we conned by two TV show obsessed freaks who look identical to the characters? Are we that dense not to recognize them? Did we really, I mean, Pacey, did we—"

“Befriend an honest to God vampire and a vampire slayer?” He chuckled, easing his arm more comfortably around her, bringing her closer to him. “Nah, Jo, of course not. But if by some cosmic means we did, then at least we’re insane together, right?”

 “That’s one way to look at it,” Joey replied dryly, making a tentative smile. Maybe it was his signature glib response, maybe it was his thumb lazily caressing her nape, but the absurdity of the idea began to fade. She rested her head on her husband’s shoulder, completely surrendering to the dance.

Vampire or not, slayer or not—wherever they were— she hoped they were finding the same happiness.

……………………………………………...

It was extremely coincidental that there was the same unique coffee shop, not only in two different dimensions, but in two different cities on two different continents. Granted, the other shop had been converted into _The True Love Bar_ _& Grill_, but that was neither here nor there.

 True Love?

 The answer was poking her in the face all along, Buffy thought unbelievably as she walked the last block toward _The Brew._ How could one demented demon be so transparent and so unpredictable at the same time? If the Entertainer’s ultimate goal had been to play matchmaker between her and Spike, why the mind games and the time jump into a different dimension? It didn’t make one iota of sense. Then again, demented demons very seldom made sense, she knew, ergo why they were referred to as demented.

 Buffy tilted her face up toward the crisp, starry night sky, bearing a sort of freshness that was full of promise. She shouldn’t be focused on the big baddie’s doings at this moment. It was just easier to think about what had happened than what she _wanted_ to happen in just a minute or two with Spike. How had she become such a wuss in matters of the heart?

 Fuck abandonment issues.

 Her footsteps slowed as she closed in on the red awning of the coffee shop. Through the wide window, she saw a bunch of empty couches and tables. Nobody seemed to be there. Buffy sighed and went inside, intending to settle in for a wait. She caught a familiar song filtering through the overhead speakers as she turned toward the counter, her eyes falling onto Spike.

 

_Don’t tell me it’s not worth tryin’ for._

_You can’t tell me it’s not worth dyin’ for._

_You know it’s true:_

_Everything I do, I do it for you._

He stood there with unbearable hesitancy in his blue eyes, and a shadow of a smile across his face. Aching at the sight, Buffy wordlessly went into his arms. In that moment, she didn’t feel confusion, she didn’t feel anger or regret as his arms enveloped her, pressing her firmly to him. All that mattered was holding him, and being held by him.

 

_Look into your heart – you will find_

_There’s nothin’ there to hide._

_Take me as I am, take my life._

_I would give it all, I would sacrifice._

 

“I meant what I said, you know,” Buffy whispered into his ear, her hand lightly gripping the back of his head. “I love you, Spike.”

 His head lifted from her shoulder and he looked directly into her eyes. “Yeah, I got that, love,” he said, his mouth curving up slightly. “Or we wouldn’t be home, right? It didn’t take long to figure that out.”

 Buffy took a step back, wanting things to be perfectly clear between them before she became too caught up in the warm fuzzies. “Okay, so why didn’t you come straight to my place? Why meet here?” she asked, his hands gesturing to their deserted surroundings.

 “Well,” Spike replied, “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel after our heads got unscrambled. I mean, Buffy, I may not have stayed away five years—it would’ve bloody near killed me—but I still stayed away. And truthfully, if it wasn’t for our little alternative dimension holiday, we wouldn’t be standing here now, but that’s not to say, I wouldn’t have come soon enough. It was bleeding torture without you.”

 “I get that.” Buffy nodded, liking his honesty. “And I’m not gonna lie. I’m still miffed that you didn’t come to me right away, or at least let me know that you were perfectly undead, but I get that you needed time to figure things out on your own, Spike. I had the same idea before we defeated the First. I didn’t know what I really wanted until you were gone.” She sighed as she heard Joey’s words of wisdom. _I just stopped letting fear dictate what I want to do, or uh, who I want to be with… Yeah, there’s only imperfect fairytales. It’s always a work in progress, but it’s worth it._ Letting go of her own fear, Buffy continued, “It’s no fun baking on your own. It may take a lifetime before you become a delicious, gooey cookie, you know.” She laughed at her own silly metaphor. “Do you follow?”

 Spike shrugged and simply said. “A cookie can’t bake alone, right?”

 Her lips spread into a fleeting grin before she turned serious again. “I’m tired of thinking of the past as baggage. I’m just tired of missing you. I wanna have a real chance with you, Spike——I want us to have something real and true,” she said softly, baring all her vulnerability. “That is if it’s what you want. Is it what you want?”

 “Bloody hell, it is!” he replied strongly. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

 Buffy sighed before she confessed to yet another doubt that couldn’t be pushed away under the ridiculous rug until she let it out into the open. “I know you found a sense of purpose working with Angel. And I know you said all that over there, when our memories were all doctored, but I don’t wanna stand in your way.”

 

_Don’t tell me it’s not worth fightin’ for_

_I can’t help it, there’s nothin’ I want more_

_You know it’s true:_

_Everything I do, I do it for you, oh yeah._

 

“Slayer.” Spike scoffed, eliminating the space between them as his hand cupped her cheek.  “I’m not in love with Angel, alright? I’m in love with you, Buffy,” he said, his voice turning raspy as his eyes held a mixture of tender longing and pure desire, making it clear where he really wanted to be.

 Buffy wasn’t sure who made the first move, but their lips met urgently, feverishly. His arms wound around her back while she pressed her body closer to him, wanting more. Then suddenly their ardor slowed, gentled as they savored, for the first time, the simplicity of just being together. “I’m glad we’re finally on the same page.” She smiled as her lips sought out his once again.

 ……………………………………………….

From behind the screen of a TV suspended on the far corner wall of the coffee shop, a rare yet warm smile spread across the face of a beast, a smile that came from the regretful man within. He couldn’t undo the heartache that he had caused the only woman who’d tragically loved him. Guiding Buffy and Spike back to one another, however, had become the next best thing. They’d passed his tricky test and triumphed in the end. Buffy had finally opened her heart to Spike. If only he could’ve done the same with Dana, The Entertainer thought longingly, watching the lucky couple walk out into the vast night together full of hope for their future.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete and posted at other sites.


End file.
